Second Opinion
by SuperGroverAway
Summary: A small boy gets a new way to view stormy nights, and a peculiar ritual of sorts is born.


Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, filling the small bedroom with a brilliant flash of white that sent the young boy diving beneath his covers. Hastily the five-year-old clamped his ears clapped his hands over his ears and waited for the horrible inevitable. The thunderous boom came a few seconds later, and he let out a shrill yelp of fright. As thick sheets of rain continued to batter his window, he curled into a tight ball and steeled himself for the next round of horrible clamor.

If there was anything more dreadful in this world than a fierce summer thunderstorm, Dipper honestly couldn't think of it. He hated the near-blinding lighting, he hated the jagged bolts that made it look as if the sky itself was ripping apart at the seams, and he absolutely hated the earsplitting thunderclaps that sometimes sent the entire house shaking. In a world where there was still so much he didn't understand yet, nothing made him feel so small and utterly insignificant.

Another rumble of thunder rocked the night. The boy stuck out his arm out from beneath his sheets and began to frantically feel about for his pillow. With any luck, it would do a better job muffling-

"_Hey Dipper!_"

Between the squeaky cry, the little hand that clapped tightly on top of his, and the coinciding peal of thunder that topped it all off, Dipper nearly jumped clean out of his skin in fright. With another yelp, he tore his hand away and hastily scooted back further beneath his covers. He trembled alone in his makeshift refuge for only a few moments before a familiar rosy-cheeked face poked its way beneath the sheets.

"Hey, whatcha doin' under here?" His twin pried curiously. Dipper stared back, honestly unable to believe his eyes. Despite the raging storm outside, she didn't seem to be scared in the slightest, and he frankly couldn't wrap his mind around this fact.

"What are _you_ doing in here?" He demanded in a soft quaver. She immediately burst out beaming eagerly from ear to ear.

"I _had_ to come in!" She chirped very matter-of-factly as she hugged her stuffed tiger close. "I couldn't let you miss out on any of _this_!"

Another flash of lightening lit up the room, and much to her brother's absolute bafflement, her soft brown eyes sparkled brightly with obvious, absolutely unmistakable delight.

"Oooh, here comes _another_ one!" She whooped, and without further ado she threw the covers aside, leaving her brother completely exposed.

"Hey, no!" he shouted, but quickly found himself far too distracted to panic. Mabel hopped up onto his bed, and began to jump up and down with unrestrained excitement.

"C'mon…c'mon…" she squealed impatiently, barely able to contain herself while she inadvertently bounced her twin about his own mattress.

"Mabel…M-Mabel….stop…with…the…" He struggled to protest as he was flopped back and forth like a beached fish. Suddenly the next peal of thunder shook the heavens, and his sister happily hurled herself backwards with a joyful, but confusing cry.

_"_STRIIIIKE!"

She lay sprawled in a heap, giggling uncontrollably like a nut. By this point, Dipper was far too mystified to be scared anymore, at least for the moment. He scratched his head and muttered quizzically, "…Strike?"

The nightgown-clad little girl kicked herself back upright and tittered.

"Uh-huh! You heard it too, right? That definitely had to be a strike." She declared, as if nothing could be more apparent. Dipper had to gawk dumbly at her for at least ten more seconds until she finally realized that he hadn't the slightest clue what she was chattering on about. "Oh...oh, you still don't know yet, do you?"

"Know about what?" He cast a quick wary glance back towards his window as he replied.

"Who makes all that noise!" She got up onto her knees and rocked back and forth. "I just figured it out!"

"Who?" Between his sister's bizarre behavior and the burning desire to crawl back under the relative safety of his sheets, the small boy's patience was running short. "Who's doing it?"

"The elves!" she answered jubilantly. Although he now had his answer, unsurprisingly his puzzlement only got even worse.

"The elves?" Dipper repeated, taken off guard by the bold assertion. "Like…Santa's elves, or…"

"Yeah-huh, you got it!" Her chocolate locks whipped back and forth as she nodded furiously. "Get it? It's all loud and crazy right right now 'cuz they're bowling! Y'know, like we did last week, remember?"

He did indeed remember the family outing, and pushing those strange heavy balls down bumper-lined lanes with the help of their father, while all around them older and more experienced bowlers sent pins flying lift and right. As he also recalled, the alley had been filled with thunderous booms and strange flashing lights, and soon the child could see the merits of his sister's theory. However, one crucial factor detail didn't sit easily with him.

"..._Elves_?" He asked again, then flinched violently when another rumble shook the skies.

"Yeah, Santa's elves!" Mabel squealed, clearly convinced that she had stumbled upon the truth. She gestured wildly with her little hands as she explained herself. "It's like this. See, they can't make toys all the time. That's way too much work. That's why it gets really noisy. They go on vacation, and then they go bowling. See? Get it?"

The five-year-old mused over her confident claims. He couldn't exact pinpoint what finally led to the change that abruptly washed over him only seconds later. Perhaps it was because his twin's reasoning seemed so solid. Or, maybe it was because she just was so sure of herself, it was hard not to be infected by her optimism. Maybe it was just because the image of tiny fairy-like creatures hurling enormous balls around was oddly calming, but whatever it was, all of a sudden the storm outside didn't seem a fraction as frightening as it was only minutes before.

If anything he felt a growing and honest urge to watch it, now that his inquisitive nature was roused. He scratched the back of his neck and pondered out loud. "So...is this like, a championship game, or something?"

"I dunno" Mabel shrugged. "But it sounds like whatever they're playing for, they _really_ wanna win."

Another bolt of lighting tore across the sky, followed by another pounding rumble. Immediately Mabel let out another excited squeak as she fixed her attention outside the bedroom window.

"That was a good one! That last guy just had to knock down all the pins! He had to!"

This time Dipper didn't even wince. Instead, he now watched as intently as she did. If what she insisted was true, then he couldn't miss out on this magical phenomenon.

"I wonder if they play on teams..." he mused aloud as he crawled to the edge of the bed and joined her. "Dad says that's what some people do, right?"

"They might…but who gets to play with who?" Mabel asked. Her twin's tiny brow furrowed as he wracked his fertile little mind for a satisfactory answer.

"Maybe...maybe they play with guys who make the same stuff. Like…the guys who make video games will play against the ones who make bikes, and stuff like that!" He theorized.

"Yeah!" She heartily agreed. "And whoever wins gets...gets...uh...they get some of the extra cookies that Santa can't eat!"

"Hey, yeah! He can't eat all of them, can he?"

"Nuh-uh, he probably gets like, a bazillion cookies every Christmas. That's way too many…."

The two continued to joyfully speculate aloud and happily debate, all the while watching the brilliant night sky. By the time the last earsplitting boom had rocked the heavens, a certain little boy found himself a full convert.

"That...was _awesome_." He whispered breathlessly. His sister yawned and nodded sleepily.

"Told ya I had to come in." She murmured, feeling a little tired after their light-night skywatching. Mabel yawned again, and without a second though she curled up on the end of her brother's bed. Dipper meanwhile was quite the contrast, and as he lay back his eyes bugged wide with excitement.

"We're gonna watch next time they play, right?" He blurted out, barely able to contain himself now. "Right?"

His sister giggled as she hugged her toy tiger closer, wriggled a little and rested her head against his side.

"Duh..." Worn out from the excitement, she still managed a sleepy smile. "Of course...we...gotta..."

* * *

"..._Psst_! Hey, Mabel...Mabel!"

The soft bombardment of low whispers and gentle shaking soon did its work. The twelve-year-old lifted her heavy lids with a sleepy moan. As she gazed up dozily at her twin, Dipper immediately gestured silently for her to listen.

Moments later, a flash of lightning lit up the room, followed quickly in tow by a loud crackle of thunder. Mabel's eyes snapped fully open, and instantly she plastered on a fat smile of excitement. Dipper gestured for her to get up, and moving quickly like two eager children on Christmas morning, the two darted up out of the room and hastily headed off downstairs.

A few minutes later, the pair had set themselves up front of the largest window in the house, sitting on the floor on two borrowed cushions from the living room sofa. Together they watched the epic storm rage outside, not only intently but also oddly contently so.

"So who's playing who tonight?" Dipper joked as he reached into the small bowl of popcorn between them.

"Hmm...I think it's the woodcarvers versus the doll makers." Mabel stroked her chin and quickly improvised.

"Yikes!" Her brother exclaimed in mock-pity. "I do not envy the doll makers. Those delicate little fingers are good for painting eyebrows, but not so great for chucking balls that size."

"Oh, they're definitely at a big disadvantage here." She readily agreed. "If you're painting tiny eyebrows and making itty-bitty little limbs all day, it's hard to bulk up on muscle."

"Uh-huh. Plus, those woodworking guys probably have a lot of rage out on the lanes."

"Of course they're angry!" she scoffed. "They never have anything to do at work. Who even plays with wooden toys anymore?"

"People who love splinters." He shot back, getting a snort of laughter out of his sister before a jagged bolt tore across the sky, followed by a rumble so powerful it rattled the shack a little. Rather than be alarmed, the two immediately lit up with joy at the sight.

"_Strike_!" the two whooped, high-fived and sat back, waiting eagerly for more from spectacular free light show.

After munching down on another handful of their midnight snack, Mabel elbowed her brother gently and spoke through a half-full mouth, "Thanks for waking me."

Dipper grinned and affectionately nudged her right back. "Well, I _had_ to...I couldn't let you miss out on any of _this_…."


End file.
